


Addict with an Angel Blade

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11.10, Angst, Based on a song, Castiel-centric, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, castiel's perspective, mildly implied, twenty one pilots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 01:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot from Castiel's perspective in 11.10. Based around Twenty One Pilot's song "Addict with a Pen"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addict with an Angel Blade

"Addict with an Angel Blade" 

 

 

( _Hello, We haven't talked in quite some time, I know I haven't been the best, Of sons_ )

He's forgotten how long it's been since he's prayed. For better or worse, Castiel's faith in his God had waned. It wasn't a simple process. No, more of a combination of factors. Of coming to grips with the idea that God wouldn't step in to stop an impending Apocalypse. Of tasting independence for himself and learning both the bitter and sweet that come with such power and responsibility. Of meeting the Winchesters. No, more than that. Of _choosing_  the Winchesters.

_(Hello, I've been traveling in, The desert of my mind)_

The problem with independence is it's lonely. So lonely, far more than Castiel could ever have anticipated. He's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. It might be a side-effect of considering himself an ally to the Winchesters or an Angel of the Lord, but likely it's a combination of both. Either way, it's exhausting. The world isn't getting saved and try as Castiel might, he isn't helping. In fact, the insidious thought has crept into his head that he might actually be making things _worse_.

_(And I_ _Haven't found a drop,_ _Of life)_

Expendable. That word rang in his ears, vibrating his bones as he tried to shake it out. But he can't, the word has sunk deeper into his marrow because it's true. Nothing would happen if he ceased to be. Nobody would stop to mourn. If anything, there might be relief. Castiel has only caused pain and misery, has gotten countless members of his angelic family killed and only served to let the Winchesters down. A rush of guilt catches in Castiel's throat as he realizes everyone would have been better off if he had simply ended his own life sooner.

_(I haven't found a drop,_ _Of you)_

And still, God remained silent. Despite Castiel's agonizing pleas, his desperate questions for why he'd been spared, his begging that the world would be saved...not a single response.

_(I haven't found a drop,_ _I haven't found a drop,_ _Of water)_

The angels were gone. God appeared to be gone. All Castiel had was the Winchesters. But as long as he was useless, well...he didn't really have them either. In the last couple months Castiel had managed to get Charlie killed. He'd been unable to stop Dean from going on a murderous rampage, he'd let his guard down and gotten cursed by Rowena and then, to make matters worse, he was jittery. He'd been among humans too long, he'd become weak.

_(Water)_

Castiel knew enough to know the Winchesters had no use for a weak angel.

_(I try desperately to run through the sand,_ _As I hold the water,_ _In the palm of my hand)_

There had to be another way. Castiel was determined to prove himself, once and for all, that he was worthy of the Winchesters. That was worthy of their time, of their attention...and maybe, just maybe, if he was good enough...that he was worthy of their love. Worthy of Dean's love.

_(Cause it's all that I have,_ _And it's all that I need and,_ _The waves of the water,_ _Mean nothing to me)_

He had given up the entire host of Heaven for Dean. Had rebelled and fought and changed so much that they hadn't just become important, the Winchesters had become the closest thing he had to family. Castiel gave up everything he had, almost everything he _was,_ for Dean. But it still wasn't enough.

_(But I try my best,_ _And all that I can to,_ _Hold tightly onto,_ _What's left in my hand)_

So Castiel pushed himself even harder. He had to be more, he had to be better. It wasn't easy. Naomi had been right, Castiel had been broken from the start. How he was supposed to aid the Winchesters in the fight against the Darkness, an evil so powerful it had taken four  _arch-angels_  to subdue it, was beyond him. But he had to try. He'd lost so much already, Castiel couldn't lose the Winchesters too.

_(But no matter how,_ _How tightly I will strain,_ _The sand will slow me down,_ _And the water will drain)_

But the fact remained: Castiel wasn't family to the Winchesters. If he was expendable to the angels he was only more so for the Winchesters. After all, Castiel wasn't even human. He was a broken, fallen angel. And despite his tries, he always, _always_  failed to be what the Winchesters wanted.

_(I'm just being dramatic,_ _In fact,_ _I'm only at it again,_ _As an addict with a pen)_

What should it matter, how the Winchesters felt about him? Castiel had spent millennium being a mere tool, a weapon in Heaven's arsenal, why should this be any different? But Castiel knows he's fallen. And with falling has come traces of humanity. Of emotion. And the desire to be loved has grown so strong it's practically an addiction.

_(Who's addicted to the wind,_ _As it blows me back and forth,_ _Mindless, spineless, and pretend)_

Which is why he stays by the Winchester's side. Why he lets them push him in every direction. Why Castiel, a fallen renegade of an angel, practically licks the boots of two mortals. They might think of him only as a hammer, but at least as a hammer Castiel will be thought of at all. 

_(Of course I'll be here again,_ _See you tomorrow)_

It's why he's here now, he's always there when Dean calls. Why he won't even flinch when Dean insists they go into the Cage to save Sam from Lucifer, despite the painful memories and distant scars wrapped up in that place.

_(But it's the end of today,_ _End of my ways,_ _As a walking denial)_

He's stopped thinking of himself as a hero. Stopped thinking of himself as family. No, Castiel is expendable. Worthless. A hammer that can't even make a dent in the Darkness. 

_(My trial was filed as a crazy,_ _Suicidal head case)_

Even the Darkness herself can't fully make sense of Castiel. Some broken, mutated, almost pitiable excuse of an angel that inexplicably gained God's favor.

_(But you specialize in dying,_ _You hear me screaming,_ _Father)_

But God won't answer. God won't help. And Castiel knows he isn't going to be enough for the Winchesters, not alone.

_(And I'm lying here just crying,_ _So wash me with your water)_

And so he takes on the Devil. Without even stopping to think, without a single regard for his own life.

_(Water)_

After all, the alternative is letting the Winchesters down.

_(Hello,_ _We haven't talked in quite some time)_

Castiel was expecting to die. To be crushed by his powerful older brother, who had to have been roaring with fury at what had happened at Castiel's hands. He wasn't expecting Lucifer to offer him a deal.

_(I know,_ _I haven't been the best,_ _Of sons)_

It wasn't the worst deal in the world, either. And Castiel had to pay penance for his crimes in some way. Perhaps this, Lucifer, was it.

_(Hello,_ _I've been traveling in,_ _The desert of my mind)_

With the remains of his strength, Castiel lunged at Lucifer. It was just enough to shift the devil's focus away from Sam. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to cause much damage. Lucifer began to beat Castiel with a strength the weaker angel couldn't hope to match.

_(And I,_ _I haven't found a drop,_ _Of life)_

"Any last words?" Lucifer asked. In another situation, there wouldn't be anything but relief. But he had responsibilities, he had messes he needed to fix. One glance at Dean, who made no move to leave his brother's side to defend the angel, cemented all the fears swirling in Castiel's mind.

_(I haven't found a drop,_ _Of you)_

"Can you really beat her?"

_(I haven't found a drop)_

"I can."

_(I haven't found a drop)_

"Then yes."

_(Of water)_

**Author's Note:**

> I did not write Twenty One Pilot's song "Addict with a Pen," I am quoting it throughout.


End file.
